


Two Black Eyes

by caravanslost



Category: Rugby Union RPF, XV de France
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:23:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caravanslost/pseuds/caravanslost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benjamin Kayser sets his sights on Benoît Paillaugue after an ASM/Montpellier game. All does not go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Black Eyes

"That one," Benjamin declared, nodding his head discreetly to the right. "The one standing next to Fufu."

Aurelien turned to look, and raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Him? Really?"

"Really."

"I've never had him," Aurelien admitted.

Benjamin suppressed a smile. "Therein lies the basis of his appeal. Partially, anyway." 

"I can't give you any assurances as to quality, like I usually do."

"I know. I think I'll enjoy being the one to furnish you with the details. Besides - how could that not be quality?"

"You think so?" Aurelien mused, taking a deep drink. "He looks kind of mousy to me. Timid. Like he's twelve."

"So? Maybe it's time someone initiated the kid into the fold." Benjamin reasoned, his expression wolfish. 

"Well, good luck to you. But you'll have to get past Francois and Fulgence first. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear they were keeping sentry over him." Aurelien pointed out. 

"You know me. I like a challenge."

Aurelien rolled his eyes. "Just don't break the poor boy in two."

"I'm perfectly gentle when I want to be." Benjamin protested.

"My concern is that your definition of gentle might differ a little from that of sweet little Benoit."

Benjamin shook his head and indicated to the barman for two more beers. "Sometimes, Roro, I forget which side you're on."

*~*

Across the rooom, Benoit gently nudged Fulgence in the elbow. "Fufu. Fufu, I think someone's looking at me."

"Oh? Who?"

"He's to my left, standing next to Aurelien Rougerie." When Fufu turned to look, Benoit gave him a sharp kick in the foot. "Don't make it obvious that you're looking."

Fulgence identified the culprit, and laughed. "Benjamin Kayser? Stop worrying. He's harmless."

"He looks like he wants to eat me alive."

Fulgence rolled his eyes. "He's a forward - their faces are naturally that way. Give the guy a break at any rate. He's an absolute sweetheart."

"Fufu," Benoit began seriously, "but he has a black eye."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive." Fufu responded with patience, ever the paragon of diplomacy. He was extremely fond of Benoit, but sometimes it was easy to forget that he was only younger by a year.

Benoit turned to look at Kayser once more, found him staring back, and their eyes met. Benjamin smiled a little and raised his glass to acknowledge Benoit, who flushed and turned back to Fufu. 

"Why is he staring at me?"

"Because you're cute, Benoit, and the man has eyes."

That made Benoit smile. He knew that heaven itself couldn't pull Fufu away from Francois, but sometimes, a small part of him wished _something_ would. "Glad you noticed. Is he always like this?"

"They all are, these Auvergnats. Their team colours might as well be blue, yellow and promiscuity."

"Great." Benoit's eyes scanned the room and found some truth in Fufu's declaration - almost every member of the ASM seemed to have a sly ease, and an even slyer smile. 

"So how do I get him to stop?"

"The question is - are you sure you want him to?"

Benoit looked at him with surprise. "Really? You think I should go there?"

"I think you shouldn't dismiss him so quickly."

"Have you....?" Benoit asked, unsure as to whether he really wanted the answer to that question. He knew that both Francois and Fufu engaged in occasional dalliances, but he never knew with whom.

"If it did, that would be between Benjamin and I."

"Oh. I was going to ask whether you ... y'know ... recommended the experience."

"I've always told you to try new things." Fufu responded, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

Benoit's cheeks reddened. Fufu had initiated him into more things than he'd ever admit to anyone. "He's nothing like you. Isn't there anyone in between you two? To ease the transition....?"

"Jump in the deep end, Benoit."

Benoit looked back at the 'deep end', and found him still in deep conversation with Aurelien - though he could have sworn that Benjamin was keeping his peripheral vision firmly on him. "We'll see."

*~*

A little while later, Fufu left in search of François - and within a minute, Benjamin appeared at Benoit's side, two new beers in hand. He helped himself to a seat and passed a bottle across to Benoit, who accepted it.

"Thanks," he began reservedly, taking a swig and sizing up Benjamin. 

"Pleasure."

I'll bet, thought Benoit. "I thought it was customary to ask the other person whether they wanted a drink."

"Maybe in Montpellier. Not where I'm from." Benjamin smiled.

 _He has nice eyes_ , Benoit found himself thinking, very much despite himself. "It might be misinterpreted as being a little ... forward."

"That wouldn't be a misinterpretation." Benjamin replied coyly. "But anyway. You played really well today."

Benoit raised an eyebrow. "You realize that I'm taking all your compliments with a grain of salt, right?"

"Take them however you want." Benjamin shrugged, completely unfazed, his sly smile where it had been the entire night. "I wouldn't offer them if I didn't mean them."

"Thanks. I guess."

*~*

Benjamin moved the conversation to more neutral ground, and they began to talk about familiar, easy subjects like where they were from and how they had arrived at their respective teams. He figured that it would put Benoit at ease, although he suspected that Roro would describe it as familiarising himself with his prey. There was probably truth in both descriptions. In any case, it had been a good move - Benoit became remarkably animated when he forgot that he was being pursued. He spoke quickly and excitedly, with his hands as much as his words, and Benjamin found himself wondering why he'd never paid much attention to Benoit before.

Once or twice, when Benoit had been in the middle of some story or another, Benjamin's eyes drifted across the room. They were being watched by Aurelien, Fufu, and François, all three of whom seemed to approve of the development with varying degrees of amusement.

They talked and talked, and kept talking till the bar eventually began to clear. Benjamin had decided not to make a move until every single one of their team-mates had left the establishment - he suspected that Benoit had never been courted in front of an audience before. Aurelien was the first to leave (with Julien Tomas not-so-discreetly in tow), and Fufu and François departed last, like concerned but nonetheless proud parents. Fufu winked at Benjamin before he headed out the door, which he took as a blessing to go ahead.

Eventually, they were the last two left, a few shady characters aside, and the barman politely told them that he would be closing in fifteen minutes. Benoit downed the rest of his drink; Benjamin had finished his own long ago, and watched him.

"You handle your drink better than I expected you to." He mused.

"Were you trying to get me drunk, Benjamin?" Benoit responded drily.

"Not intentionally - but while we're on the subject, are you?"

Benoit smirked. "Not particularly."

"Good for you."

"And not so good for you." He pointed out, with an aggravatingly playful glint in his eye.  
Benjamin found himself thinking that Benoit was a more sporting opponent than he had expected him to be. He made a mental note to tell Aurelien - Roro loved a challenge.

They stepped outside into brisk night air and a deserted street, and hovered for a moment outside the entry to the bar.

"Right." Benoit began, a little awkwardly. His hands were buried in his jacket pockets, and he was bouncing slightly on his heels to keep warm. "Thanks for the chat, and the beer. Well, beers."

"Pleasure."

"I'll be off, then."

"I don't think so." Benjamin replied, with a cheshire smile.

Benoit raised an eyebrow. He was tired, but equally curious to see which card Benjamin would play next. "And why's that?"

"Because I don't have the first clue how to get back to my hotel."

Benoit almost laughed out loud. "Right. Of course. Nice try."

"I'm serious, Benoit."

"You honestly can't think of a more subtle way to get me back to your room?"

Benjamin resisted a smile, failed, and shrugged. "Who said anything about you? All I want is to get me back to my room."

"Sure."

"Are you going to help me or not?"

"I'll give you directions, and let you make your own way back," Benoit smirked, feeling rather pleased with himself. "Take the first left from here, then the second right, and keep walking till you hit the monument. Take the right road at the fork, and then the second right. I know it sounds long, but it'll only take a couple of minutes. The streets are really short."

The barrage of instructions was met with an equal smirk. "I lost you after 'take the first left'".

"No, you didn't." Benoit insisted, nonetheless amused. He wanted to feel annoyed by Benjamin's persistence, but he found himself being charmed, quite against his will. 

"Yes, I did. And if I go on my own, I'll take the first left, I'll probably get lost, and you'll have to explain my untimely death to Vern Cotter. Walking me back is the wiser option, if you think about it."

Benoit raised his hands in defeat. "Fine. Fine. I'll walk you to your hotel. But I'm not doing it for you." He nodded to his left and they began strolling.

"So, purely out of interest, who are you doing it for?"

"Fufu. He'd flay me himself if he knew that I left a visiting player to find his own way back. He gets all hung up about being 'good hosts'."

"And you'd do anything for Fufu, wouldn't you?" Benjamin teased.

Benoit felt color and heat pooling in his cheeks, and was quietly thankful that they were walking in darkness. "I have no idea what you mean."

"You have every idea what I mean, Benoit." Benjamin smirked. "It's okay. Most people would do anything for Fufu, myself included."

 _So Fufu's been there_ , Benoit thought to himself. He wasn't quite sure why, but that thought made an evening with Benjamin Kayser seem a significantly more appealing prospect - he felt he ought to trust Fufu's taste. Although, if he was being honest, it had been appealing to him anyway for the last hour and a half.

"Is that what it's like, when you're on the national team?" Benoit found himself asking. "Anything and anyone goes?"

"What happens at Marcoussis stays at Marcoussis." Benjamin replied coyly, although after a moment's hesitation, he added, "But yes, basically."

"It's a wonder you lot ever get around to playing any rugby."

"Don't pretend like it's any different with Montpellier, Benoit." Benjamin scoffed. "And if what I've heard is true, your team may even be a little worse than mine...."

Benoit sent him a side look. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Even in the dim light of the odd streert lamp, it was clear that Benjamin was enjoying himself. "Hey, Fabien Galthié's a very attractive man. I don't blame you. Lord knows, if he was my coach..."

"I've never - "

"Calm down. I wasn't accusing you personally." Benjamin smirked.

"You'd really go for Fabien?" The thought was foreign to Benoit, and his mind raced to think which teammate - or teammates - were culpable of that particular dalliance.

"I wouldn't kick him out of my bed, if you catch my drift. Although he's not really my type."

Benoit almost laughed. He knew the next question he was expected to ask - and he suspected that he already knew the answer. "Right. What's your type, then?"

"Have a guess." Benjamin teased.

"Let's see..." Benoit began playfully. "I'm guessing you go for sorts smaller than yourself. Younger looking ones, perhaps. Blonde-brown hair, scruffily bearded..."

"Wrong on all four counts. You flatter yourself." Benjamin responded, rather pleased that Benoit had walked directly into that one. He was also rather pleased that he'd blushed Benoit's cheeks twice in the space of ten minutes. "I like forwards. But I occasionally dabble in a back, once every so often, to keep things fresh."

"Sounds like you've.... been around."

"I have. You should try it sometime."

"We're almost at your hotel." Benoit replied drily, still smarting from that last embarassment, as they made the final turn into the street of their destination. "Look, it's down there at the end."

Without warning or explanation, Benoit suddenly found himself being pulled into an alleyway, and pressed between Benjamin and a wall in the darkness. Benjamin's face was very close to his - they were nose to nose - and he was smiling that sly smile he had worn throughout the night. Once Benoit's mind had worked out what had happened, he resisted a giggle. Benjamin was too playful to be intimidating, and he'd never been courted quite like this before - the novelty was thoroughly enjoyable.

"Is this how you do things at Clermont, then?" Benoit murmured, every flutter of his lips brushing against Benjamin's.

"Yes, but we don't usually talk this much."

"Seems ... callous." 

"It's efficient."

Benoit smirked. "Is that what you look for in a dalliance? Efficiency?"

"How about," Benjamin began, his voice low and amused, "you let me show you what I look for in a dalliance?"

"I don't know..." Benoit responded coquettishly. "I'm not sure if I'm convinced."

"Thought you might say that."

Benjamin's lips found their way to the point where Benoit's neck met his collarbone, and pressed softly against the skin. He planted a trail of lingering kisses up his neck, across his jaw, and finally, he met Benoit's lips. Reflexively, Benoit kissed him back, and felt a flushing heat spread across his chest. Benjamin Kayser knew what he was doing, and quite well. Taking Benoit's responsiveness as encouragement, Benjamin slipped warm hands under his t-shirt and held him by the hips.

"Ben - Benj - Benjamin - " Benoit whispered breathlessly, stealing words in between kisses. 

"Mmm?"

"We're in - we're in public."

"In an alleyway. Without light." Benjamin pointed out. 

"In public."

Benjamin smiled in the darkness. "I'm happy to move somewhere else if you are."

"We - we can't."

"Oh?"

"People will know - !" Benoit exclaimed. After Benjamin's well-publicised pursuit of him in the bar, Benoit's team-mates already had enough material with which to torment him for the rest of the year. He had no intention of providing them with further ammunition.

Benjamin let out a short laugh. "So what if people know?"

"I - I can't."

"Come back to my hotel room. I swear - we'll sneak in."

"I thought you were sharing a room with Thomas Domingo."

"He's out tonight. Trust me; no one will see you come in or out." Benjamin promised, trying not to sound too amused, lest he scared the boy away. "Or, if you'd prefer, we could go back to your place."

"I share a flat with two of my team-mates. No way."

"I don't mind having to do the walk of shame..." Benjamin cajoled. 

"I'll bet." Benoit replied wryly. 

Benjamin figured that reasoning would get him nowhere, so he returned to the tactic that had seemed to work a few minutes earlier - he shut Benoit up by kissing him, and felt the boy's defences wither under his hands.

"Benjamin - " Benoit protested, half-heartedly at best.

"Ben-oit -" He responded, his tone mocking. "Y'know, I wonder if you're ticklish - "

"Try and I'll make you regret it." Benoit threatened, about as convincingly as before.

"I'd love to see you try and stop me, Paillaugue." Benjamin murmured. 

"Could if I wanted to." Benoit countered, a little more resolve in his voice. 

"But you don't." Benjamin murmured.

"I should."

"You couldn't." Benjamin's hands moved to Benoit's stomach - and barely brushed them before Benoit's fist connected with his left eye.

For a moment, both of them froze and stared at each other. Then, Benoit broke the silence with a panicked, " _Shit!_ "

Benjamin burst into laughter. "I stand corrected, Paillaugue. You've got more mettle in you than I expected."

"Benjamin, I am so - " Benoit seemed horrified. "That was - I didn't mean for it to be so - "

"Don't worry." Benjamin grinned. 

"But it's - " Benoit pointed at the eye that had withstood the contact. "- I think it's going to bruise ..."

"I'm hardly a stranger to black eyes. Though I must say - I've never had two at the same time before."

Benoit covered his face with his hands. "Shit."

"No need for that. You've made your point." Benjamin assured him, tone amused. "I'll let you go tonight - but don't think for a moment that I'm done with you."

"How are you going to explain the bruising ... ?"

"No one asks questions anymore, when it comes to me."

"I really am sorry." Benoit repeated, his face a delightful shade of red, and he was silently thankful it was dark. 

Benjamin laughed, and leaned in to steal a final, slow-burning kiss off Benoit's lips. Benoit, for the umpteenth time that night, and quite despite himself, willingly kissed him back. 

"Five months till you visit Clermont for a game." Benjamin murmured afterwards, their faces still close. "And next time, I'm not accepting your nonsense fear of embarassment as an excuse."

*~*

The next morning, Fabien Galthié summoned his players for their usual post-game debrief. Benoit had quietly gone to see the medical staff about taping up his right hand before the mweting - Benjamin inadvertently gave as good as he got, and Benoit's fingers had turned sixteen shades of black and blue. After refusing to answer every single question the medics asked about what happened, Benoit sidled into the meeting room inconspicuously and sat near the back. However, his attempts at invisibility drew more attention.

"Benoit!" Fufu called out from the front. "Why's your hand bandaged?"

"Hurt it during the game." He responded, giving his best attempt at nonchalance despite the heat spreading across his face.

"Bullshit." Fufu smirked. "You didn't have those bandages at the bar."

"Rough play of a different sort, perhaps?" François suggested helpfully, expression gleeful. "Who was it, Benoit?"

"Nothing happened with anyone." He insisted, hoping that Fabien would walk in soon and force them to change the subject. Everyone in the room laughed, their amusement a barometer of how seriously they took his denial.

"Why are you embarassed?" Fufu asked - between chortles. "Nothing to be ashamed of. You could do worse than Benjamin Kayser."

"You'd know." Benoit responded indignantly.

"With Benjamin, most of us do." François informed him cheerfully. "Welcome to the club. We could probably get badges made."

"Or boxers, with 'Benjamin Kayser was here' embroidered along the back..." Fufu mused.

Benoit stared at him, horrified. "He wasn't _anywhere._ "

At which point, Fabien walked into the room. "Who was where?"

"Ask Benoit!" Julien called out.

Fabien surveyed the room briefly in confusion, and seemed on the verge of asking, but he decided against it. He moved to the front and got down to business.

"Right. Well. Whatever's going on, shelve it for now. Overall, a good game. I went and saw off Vern and the lads before their bus left this morning, and they send their farewell. I don't know what you lot did to them at the bar yesterday, but they either drank too much, or you lot can drink them under the table. Half those lads don't look like they've had any sleep - Benjamin Kayser somehow has _two_ blacks eyes now -"

"Benoit!" Fufu exclaimed gleefully, amidst the renewed laughter. 

Benoit slumped down in his seat, and miserably reflected that if he was going to suffer through this embarassment anyway, he might as well have followed Benjamin to his room. _Next time._


End file.
